


in the end, who are you really?

by Anonymous



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Author is Nonbinary, Gen, Kinda, Lowercase, Mental Health Issues, Misgendering, No Dialogue, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Toby Smith | Tubbo, Self-Discovery, Toby Smith | Tubbo-centric, based on personas not real people, but only lightly touched upon, gratuitous use of pronouns, if discomfort is expressed with these kinds of fics- poof it's gone, lowkey highkey a vent fic, me shoving my problems with my gender identity onto a comfort character the fic, not really but kinda, there is so much projection in here, tommy is only there for like two lines though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:08:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29272260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: a horrid feeling claws at tubbo's throat.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 6
Kudos: 89
Collections: Fanfic Anonymous





	in the end, who are you really?

it takes form in a sludgy mess in his stomach, festering and heavy, pulling down on his guts. tubbo doesn’t know why it’s there.

well, not fully, that is.

he knows it started out of the blue, a sudden hesitation, a feeling of discomfort when tommy called him ‘big man’. which is dumb, tommy calls him, and everyone else, that all the time. but this time it sends an odd feeling of utter _wrongness_ throughout him, one that clings to him even after the conversation has moved on.

he ends his stream earlier than he could’ve, and spends the rest of the day face-down in his pillow, mulling over the feeling till he falls asleep. thankfully, it’s gone by the next day, not fully, but enough that he can ignore the odd way his stomach folds in on itself when people refer to him.

and then it grows.

he can’t hang out with his friends for too long, or a lump takes residence in his throat, he shifts uncomfortably no matter how relaxed the situation, and the seemingly ever-present knot of his guts squeezes tight. he knows his friends get more worried every time he leaves a call without saying anything, but he just _can’t_.

it’s not any better when he streams. he can’t exactly leave a call in the middle of a stream, but the second he shows signs of discomfort, his chat goes wild with concern. 

“ _is he okay?_ ” “ _you good dude?_ ” “ _everything alright tubbo?_ ”.

he simply forces a smile and a promise he’s okay, and switches off his camera for a few minutes. he feels better with a baggy hoodie on, managing to last the rest of the way through the jackbox round before dipping with a half-assed goodbye to his friends, and an even lazier goodbye to his chat. he should feel bad about it, he knows that, but he can’t find the energy to care.

the lump saps away his energy, giving him barely enough to scroll through twitter, but even that takes more out of him then it should. so he switches to an alt, and buries himself in youtube videos.

a week passes without him making an appearance on his mains at all, but it doesn’t bother him as much as he thinks it should. in fact, it’s rather comforting to float in the state of relative anonymity, but he knows it can’t last forever. his friends and fans are worried about him, and he doesn’t exactly feel great about making that many people concerned over him.

it’s a short stream, an hour tops, but he can’t bring himself to continue past that point. his chat goes wild when he starts, and just that alone drains his social battery far more than it should.

“ _he’s back!_ ” “ _oh my god he’s alive_ ” “ _he returns!!!!!_ ”

it’s hours later when it all clicks. 

_he_ , _he_ , _he_ , _he_ , _he_. _him_ , _him_ , _him_ , _him_ , _him_. the curdling feeling that shoves all of tubbo’s energy away when people refer to him, is because it’s people referring to _him_.

tubbo doesn’t like being a he.

it’s a bubbling feeling that gets stuck in tubbo’s throat this time. a swarm of emotions that sweep away the previous ones, yanking them out of the depths they’d been stuck in. yanking _them_.

 **_them_**.

the change of pronouns is simple, and it doesn’t change much, and no one knows but them, but tubbo feels better anyways.

they think that’s really what matters in the end.


End file.
